


Monsters

by itsgoodtobeking



Category: Gotham (TV), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series, 悪魔城ドラキュラ 闇の呪印 | Castlevania: Curse of Darkness
Genre: Gen, Monsters, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsgoodtobeking/pseuds/itsgoodtobeking
Summary: Oswald offers a million dollars to anyone who can bring him Fish. Someone does the very next day - but the stranger's not interested in the cash reward. Instead, he has an offer to make. Is it really as straightforward as it seems?A one-shot AU guest starring Butch Gilzean, inspired by the S3 premiere of Gotham and my two favourite villains. No knowledge of Castlevania needed. Gotham S2 + S3 spoilers.





	

"I must thank you for bringing her to me, and in such a timely fashion," Oswald says from over the desk in his late father's study. There's a barely contained fierceness to his smile, a smile that almost reaches his eyes. To say this is a pleasant surprise is an understatement considering he had only just limped his way into the GCPD and hijacked the press conference the other day, publicizing the promise of a reward for Fish's capture. But a million dollars is a life-changing motivator. "It must have been quite the adventure."  


The killer's lips quirk. He's a lean, hungry-looking sort of man; both he and Oswald share that wiriness. But slouching into his chair, legs spread, he manages to fill it like he owns the Van Dahl manor. "'twas less entertaining than you might think... as much as I enjoy hunting for sport."

 _'twas._

Cute. 

Oswald's not sure what the man - Isaac - is trying to accomplish with the old-timey diction and haughty drawl other than sounding like a fool. But this _is_ Gotham; it's a far cry from the weirdest thing he's put up with.

"Well aren't _you_ just the character!" He leans back and flicks a glance into the corner of the room where Butch is standing, as if seeking his agreement. Butch meets his eyes and in that look they share is a whole conversation. "Come now, sir - to walk into a den of monsters and emerge by all appearances, unscathed, with their leader's head is no unimpressive feat."

Someone else - maybe many - might have done the dirty work. But the _who_ and the _how_ doesn't matter so much as the knowledge that Fish was gone for good - and that he now had a lovely new piece for his mantel to place next to his stepmother's rotting head.

"But let's not obsess over details," Oswald continues, reaching to pluck a pen from a marble stand. "I am a man of my word and I am sure you are eager to claim your reward."  


Isaac calmly raises a hand to stop him. Oswald's smile falters.

"That... will not be necessary." He purrs. "I haven't any need for money."

That made this about favours, then. Something Oswald was infinitely less comfortable with involving a stranger he knows nothing about. He blinks, mouth opening before he knows what to say, looking the man in the black trench coat and leather gloves over a second time. Hair styled in a long, shaggy fringe and dyed a shade of red similar to Fish's; pale eyes shadowed with colour; some abstract tattoo over his temple and across one cheek, snaking down his throat. A man who obviously missed the memo that last night's rave ended hours ago.

Oswald shakes his head as if to clear it. "A man of your selflessness is a rare breed in this cesspool of greed and corruption. I don't profess to understand the point. But, whatever. Your choice." He presses his hands to his desk and pushes to his feet. "So, if we're done here..." 

"I don't believe we are."

A muscle flexes in Oswald's jaw and he stops. Then offers the man his thinnest, coldest smile. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but--"

Isaac lifts a finger, a too-long nail pressing sharply against the leather of his glove. It reminds Oswald too much of Fish.

"But a moment longer of your precious time if I may, my dear Oswald. I did bring you the bitch's head, after all." He rises from his chair. With the heels on his boots he stands at least two heads taller - but that's never kept Oswald from glaring at someone unflinchingly, all thunder and spitting fury. Only Isaac doesn't shrink under the look. He cants his head, expectant, dully amused. 

" _Fine._ "

The line of Oswald's jaw tightens as he hobbles around his desk and stops before Isaac. He tilts his chin up at him. "What _do_ you want?"  


"...Flesh." Isaac says, as if it explains everything.

"Flesh."

" _Please_. Obtuseness is unbecoming of you, Oswald." He gives a long-suffering roll of his eyes. " _Yours_ , for the night."

There's supposed to be a laugh after that. A hint to assure him it's some kind of a sick joke. But nothing comes. He rears back, hundreds of micro-emotions flashing across his face. Surprise. Horror. Fear. "Excuse me?"

The way he stares at Oswald is like an animal singling out the weakest prey from the herd. "You heard me." Isaac says without missing a beat, watching the bob of Oswald's Adam's apple as he swallows and the minute workings of his jaw before Oswald finally settles on looking properly offended.

"Obviously you've mistaken me for someone, or I should say, something else." His eyebrows go up. "I'm sorry you're unsatisfied. But really, that's none of my business. You'll find plenty of escort services in Gotham's entertainment district to your tastes; you really only need to ask around."

They smile at each other, unmoving, the air around them thick and electric. Something twists sharply in Oswald's gut.

"I have been watching you for quite some time..." Isaac is the first to speak, and it's tempting, too tempting, to skim his nails down that silk tie and pop the first tight little button of Oswald's vest if only to see his face flush deeper with outrage, with boyish humiliation. But he keeps still, keeps his eyes on him. "...And I do believe 'twould be in your best interests that we forge an alliance against every last monster crawling through the streets of your beloved city. The heads of your enemies on your doorstep need only be the beginning."

Oswald nods to himself, poking his tongue against his cheek in annoyance. "I'm flattered," He manages, at last, in a tone as blandly pleasant as he can stand to be. "Thank you for thinking of me. But we don't have any openings at this time. You can leave your resume and cover letter with Butch and we'll look into it sometime." He slants Butch a sharp, pointed look. "...Butch, would you?"

Butch frowns. "What?"

"...Hello?" Oswald stares furiously, jerking his chin towards the door. "Show this man the door, please?"

"You needn't trouble yourself." Isaac doesn't wait to be seen out. Smiling at the spectacle, he steps back a few paces. Something opens at his feet where he stops - a circle of light over the carpet, like a spotlight shining on him. It pulses softly, throwing strange, jagged shadows across his face. "Do consider my offer, won't you? We shall meet again, I am sure."

Before Oswald knows what to make of any of it, Isaac is already fading out of existence until all that's left of him are faint, spore-like traces of light drifting through empty space and questions, too many questions, hiving in his mind. 

Why would one of Fish's own turn against her and her kind? What did he stand to gain?

Butch puffs out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, shaking his head.

"Hell of a secret admirer." He lets out an uneasy laugh, regretting it less than he knows he should when Oswald whirls on him with hate in his eyes, mouth pinched tight.


End file.
